


Two Thors, One Loki

by Copper_Wires



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Marathon Sex, Self-cest, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, Time Travel, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-09 04:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20499503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copper_Wires/pseuds/Copper_Wires
Summary: Thor and Loki are married, sure, but what's the harm in a little swinging, especially if it's with yourself, and especially if it's on your wedding night?





	Two Thors, One Loki

**Author's Note:**

> Written some time ago and edited today in a hurry because of that obscenely horny video of Chris Hemsworth interviewing himself. Plus, who can resist a title like this one? All mistakes our my own; thank you for reading as usual. I'm around on twitter more often these days @copperwiress.

By all accounts, it had been a beautiful wedding.

Thor had suggested (and Loki had reluctantly agreed) to be wed at sunrise—to watch the crest of a new day, over New Asgard, and tie their hands together as the sun shone on them again. A poetic thought, Loki had conceded.

He now realized that Thor had also been eager to start their wedding night as early as possible. The drinking and feasting and dancing and laughter at how humans tried to turn even an Asgardian drinking song into a coordinated line dance had faded into hurried goodbyes as every last one of Earth’s mightiest heroes suddenly sensed that _the two grooms would like to be left alone now, **right **now, for a very long time, preferably somewhere with soundproof walls._

And so here they were, in the loft of a large house that Thor had built himself years earlier on the outcrop of a Norwegian hill, watching the evening sun creep from the room as the sweat cooled on their skin. They had been several rounds already, and Loki was propped up on a few pillows, legs draped over Thor. Their skin was stuck together with that unspecified mix of bodily fluids that cling to one in illogically pleasant ways after several hours of very good sex. Loki sighed and squirmed slightly, adjusting his position; the backs of his knees were sweaty even in the air of the September evening. Thor gazed over at him, sated but not permanently.

“Any suggestions?” he asked, voice a low rumble. “We could try it standing, maybe.”

Loki laughed. “Are we talking again? I think I forgot how to talk for a bit back there.” He crawled over to Thor and rolled on top of him, pressing their torsos pressed together, smelling that particular fucked-out scent that he could only catch when his face was pressed this close to Thor’s skin. He kissed his way along Thor’s neck, leaned up imperiously for a moment, and then pressed his face against Thor’s for a kiss, darting his tongue into Thor’s mouth, filthy and slow, but broke away with a snort of incredulous laughter. “Are you already hard again? You bad man. I’m going to break in half.”

Thor grinned up at him as if to say _That was the idea, yes, _and gave Loki’s ass a slap, grabbing it with one hand and squeezing until Loki yelped and rolled off him, tumbling over until Thor was on top of him.

“Ooh, brother, _husband_, this is how it would always start when we were boys. Do you remember?” Loki teased, running his hands down Thor’s arms—not as muscular as they had once been, still plenty soft and broad and _bigger_ than before— but lifting stones and cutting out beer had returned some of the muscle to them, and Loki loved every inch of golden skin. “A little fight, and then a little more of a fight, and then—”

“And then you would surrender unconditionally,” Thor finished for him, leaning down and kissing the top of Loki’s head, smothering his face with his beard on purpose. “Because you loved my big cock.”

“Mmpph—!” Loki freed his face and grinned again, grabbing Thor to kiss him properly. “You were so eager back then. Not that you’ve gotten any less eager. But oh, brother, if you could have seen yourself then...I’d just eat you _up_.” He brushed a lock of Thor’s golden hair aside, staring up at him, completely open and whole. How had he ever denied himself such a union? Thor was gazing back with equal warmth, but Loki could also see the hint of a frown, which he returned cautiously.

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and then realizing what he might have said. “Oh, Thor, no—you mustn't think I preferred that version of you to this!” He wrapped his arms around Thor’s broad back, where scratch-marks had risen after one memorable round an hour or two ago, giving him an affectionate squeeze. 

Thor shook his head with a grin, but the light in his eyes of something _scheming_ seemed to linger. “Oh, trust, dear one, I know you like every _inch _of me.” He rolled his hips for emphasis, rutting his soft cock against Loki’s in a way that made them both stir. “But it does make me think.”

Loki smiled up at him, not quite following. “Would you like to pretend we’re young fools again, just for old time’s sake? That you’re deflowering me on my wedding night?” A well-trodden fantasy, perhaps, but a welcome one. 

But Thor just shook his head and grinned again, smoothing a fond hand over Loki’s pale cheek. “Think bigger, love.” He glanced meaningfully over at a wooden chest that was pushed against one wall; Stormbreaker was leaned against it.

Loki blinked at him, and then he realized, all at once, what Thor had been talking about, eyes widening. “_No_. That’s…” he trailed off, absolutely delighted that he had made such a wicked choice of a husband as this. “Oh, Thor, that’s _bad._ That’s a gross misuse of nature’s powers. That’s…”

“A bastardization of the gifts that have been bestowed upon us by the norns? A testament to the fact that lovers should not be gods, and that gods should not be lovers? Yes.” Thor was _beaming _now, and Loki felt his heart leap. “We’ve done it before, after all, to great effect.” He sat up slightly, seeing Loki’s hesitation. “And if you’re good, afterwards, perhaps we could sneak into the palace and fuck on the throne. As a gift for father.”

“Ah. _Well…_” 

Five minutes later, Thor and Loki were fully dressed and using the Tesseract and Stormbreaker to bend space-time into a very, _very_ interesting shape.

* * *

Here’s something that can be said about the fabric of the universe: it _wants _to behave.

Loki had tried to explain this to the scientists on Earth, but they were all so stubbornly _mortal_. Mortals, as any near-immortal being would tell you, made terrible astrophysicists. There was a bendiness of thought required for the job that the hard stop of mortality just seemed to impede; death hung over them like a cloud, and it shaped their view of everything. They were always talking about the collapse of timelines, and of being bent into nonbeing, and becoming your own father, and other fatalistic nonsense. It drove Loki mad.

“Think of it this way,” he had told Stark at one point, in tones that were only calm and measured because the stupid little man had supplied him with a bottle of scotch that probably had its own tax bracket. “If the universe wanted to die, it would’ve done it by now. It’s the universe. Death is _part_ of it, certainly, but it’s… always already dying, you know? It’s already died. And it all just. Fits together.” 

He had tried to web his fingers together in a useful visual manifestation of this, but, on account of the scotch, missed. “Anyways. Time is the same way, it’s part of the universe and can’t be unmade. The _big_ death has already happened, and it’s already _going to have happened_, and if you think _you_ could foul it up that badly or start it early just by stepping in and out of the past a little… you’d be deluding yourself, mortal.” Loki knocked back the rest of his drink and smirked. “Are you more important than the universe?”

Stark had huffed and muttered something laced with ill-advised bravado, and had not brought the topic up to Loki again. Heimdall was better company for these conversations, Loki had found. Heimdall saw everything that had/would/will have happened, and had confirmed to Loki in his own way that as long as you let the universe in on the fact that you weren’t trying to rise above your station, space and time would step aside very politely in order to not get in your way.

And that, at the end of the day, was how Thor and Loki managed to be on Earth at one moment, and on Asgard, fifteen years ago, at another.

They stood now in front of a tavern just outside the borders of the central city, tucked away in a copse of trees by the road that led into town. Loki had slipped into a fitted little green number that Thor had gifted him in the days leading up to their wedding—it was not quite a robe, but not a gown, either; it wrapped and clung in pleasing ways and Thor (who had thrown on a fitted red coat, a cotton shirt, and dark trousers) could not keep his hands off him. They swayed together outside in the evening air, giggling like schoolchildren, Thor’s arms wrapped all the way around Loki as he stood behind him. The journey should have seemed more significant, perhaps, but it had been so instantaneous that it felt like they were still practically in bed, still in a lover’s haze. It was a different night, now, but both agreed it was still their wedding night.

Loki inhaled deeply. The air smelled sweet and heady, and he swore he could see fireflies dotting the open fields that the road wound through. He could only speak for himself, but he was fairly sure that neither of them had felt sorrow upon their sudden homecoming. It had not been the first time they had walked this path; years before they had had long discussions about the destruction of Asgard, about the prophecies of Ragnarok, and how it all fit in to their way their separate souls had chased after each other in an effort to become one, and there had been quests and questions and arguments which now seemed to be part of a grander scheme indeed. The sheer possibilities of time travel soothed this as well; there was no temptation to live in the past, but peace in the knowledge that it was there.

And, well. This wasn’t _their_ past, after all. They were just tourists.

Loki nodded at a light that burned in a second-story window. “Is that our boy?”

Thor gave a low hum of affirmation, nuzzling Loki’s ear. “If my memory serves me, I am currently up there, very drunk, very cross with _you_ for not accompanying me, and very mad at the Norns for how the beer I had didn’t even take the _edge_ off my sexual frustration.” Thor’s words took on a purring, rumbling quality. “And oh, brother, but do I look _good_. All young and tan. Not a scratch on me. Squeaky clean.”

“Mmmm. And this was…what, fifteen years ago? So we were already together.”

“And _how_. I think you not coming with me this night resulted in one of our first fights. Or at least our first fight as a proper couple.”

“Well, let me make it up to you, _husband,_” Loki grinned, pressing back against Thor’s crotch and staying there. He was going to wear that word out, now that it was his to say. This night he remembered now, if only vaguely; he had no idea what Thor had done after storming out of his chambers hours earlier. What had they even fought about? Why hadn’t that past version of Loki gone with his own Thor that day?

_Well,_ thought Loki as he and Thor made their way into the tavern and quietly walked upstairs, hand in hand, _his loss, my gain._

The tavern floor creaked as the two of them padded down the hall in silence. Loki hadn’t even bothered to put on shoes. The tesseract and Stormbreaker were tucked away in a clever little spatial anomaly he had cooked up for just such an occasion, and Loki felt very free and unburdened by anything at all. Somehow, after all they’d been through, it seemed only right that he and Thor’s first night married night together would be such an adventure, and that it would be full of the warmth and sounds of home. Loki stopped just short of the door.

“Are you ready?” he said, looking up at Thor eagerly. “You’re sure you want me to do it this way?”

Thor chuckled fondly, “Yes. I don’t want to scare myself too badly, now, do I?” 

Loki nodded and, sweeping a hand across his brow, used a glamour spell to cast fifteen years off his visage. Aging for Aesir was not so much a natural process as it was a side effect of hard living, the way that mortals, under stress, would break out in a rash. And Loki’s magic, while far from strictly cosmetic, certainly had been used for his own vanity in the past. When he looked back at Thor his skin was smoother, his hair shorter, face less careworn and battle-nicked. 

He smiled sweetly at his husband, whose face had lit up with something not unlike _hunger._ Loki raised a freshly tweezed eyebrow at him. “Are you going to behave?”

He drew in a delighted breath as Thor closed the distance between the two of them, crowding Loki against the wall and holding his waist with two broad hands. Loki had forgotten that hiding and strain had made him slightly broader than his past self, and now he was slimmer again, and what with Thor’s newfound girth…why, he had never felt so dwarfed by his brother. It was _delightful, _and he had to suppress a squeak as Thor grabbed his ass, squeezing over the silky fabric of his robe.

“Absolutely not,” Thor growled. “Now get in there before I change my mind and take you back home for all for myself.”

Loki grinned back and twirled, actually _twirled_ away from Thor, heading over to the door and pushing it open without further ado. He stepped lightly into the small hallway that allowed guests a place to remove their boots. For a moment he stood there, feeling the familiar rush of pure excitement that came with doing nonsense like this, then stepped forward silently and peered into the chamber ahead of him.

Ah.

_Glory._

Thor—_and this was about to get confusing, wasn’t it_, thought Loki—Thor _the younger_ was splayed out on his bed, entirely naked, one hand pumping at his thick, leaking cock. Loki had entered so silently that young Thor had not noticed yet, and Loki watched him for a moment, appreciating the way this younger version of his brother seemed so intent on thrusting into his own first, hips bucking, golden thighs tensing with every motion. But his own Thor had remembered wrong, it seemed—while drink had certainly not served to knock young Thor out entirely, his face was screwed up in frustration, and the release he sought was not coming to him at the fast pace he had probably wanted. _Better not to risk it, though. _Silently, Loki undid the tie of his robe, letting the silken fabric fall and hook around his elbows, the front open entirely, revealing everything.

“_Brother_,” he sighed, trying to keep the years from his voice as skillfully as he had banished them from his face.

Young Thor jolted up at once, the terror visible on his face. If Loki hadn’t felt confident that this little scheme was harmless and held the potential for no small amount of pleasure, he might have felt horribly guilty at the scare he’d just given poor Thor, who was attempting to cover himself in a sheet. 

“Loki—-_Loki_—I’m sorry, I wasn’t...doing anything, I swear…” Thor sputtered, foolishly, face even redder than usual. “If I’d known you were there I’d have…”

“You’d have what? Hidden under your bed and done it?”

Loki’s words came out too fond, perhaps, and he followed them with a meaningful frown. 

“I didn’t think you were coming,” Thor retorted woefully. “I promise I was thinking of you and only you...” 

By now, however, Thor seemed to be registering the scene in front of him properly. Loki was standing completely exposed in front of him, after all. The glamour spell certainly did not conceal the post-coital blush that still colored Loki’s face, either, and for effect Loki parted his lips and let out a little sigh.

  
Thor gazed at him with wide eyes.

“I...am very glad you came, brother,” he began, the confidence returning to his voice. The cogs in his still-intoxicated brain were clearly turning, albeit a bit slower than usual. After a continued pause, Thor seemed to arrive at a conclusion he liked, and laid back down on the pillows with a grin, only barely holding onto the sheet, which tented visibly over his hard cock. “Perhaps you did not come at the wrong time after all. Did you miss me so very much?”

Loki remained stoic, but strode towards the edge of the bed, taking great care to keep the robe gathered around his arms _just_ so.  
  
“I’m here because I have a gift for you, brother,” he breathed, gazing down at Thor, face still very pink.

Thor’s grin widened, as if this was a riddle. “You’re a gift.”

“Hmm. You’re right.” Loki glanced back at the door, but decided he had to take advantage of this on his own for a bit. It was Thor’s gift to him, after all. He settled on the end of the bed and laid on one side, turning his back to Thor slightly. Loki shut his eyes. 

“Come touch me, then.” 

Loki could feel the mattress clench as Thor shifted and moved towards him, somewhere to his left, and then it was suddenly warm hands, Thor’s hands, grabbing at his waist and tugging him back. _This_ was what he wanted, he’d decided. He wanted to a taste of that wonderful, frightening feeling that young love had brought on in him: the feeling that at any moment, things could go too far; back then every gesture from Thor was enough to push him up against the edge of madness. A feeling of victory washed over Loki as he squealed his approval at being manhandled: this Thor wanted to fuck him _so_ badly you could almost smell it on the air, and was overwhelming to _remember_, to be reminded that Thor had always wanted him just as badly as Loki had wanted Thor. It was nearly an unimaginable gift to want and be wanted so. 

And then there was the fact that Loki had seen all this before and was still offering himself up so that his lovestruck, arrogant brother could work out his adolescent frustrations, knowing full well he had the upper hand regardless of how roughly he let Thor handle him. Is this how they would have found themselves, had Loki been the older sibling? The thought did not displease him, and he let out a heady sigh as Thor made quick work of dragging Loki over to his chest, forcing back the sheets in a hurried gesture, settling Loki’s cock against his own with a sigh of relief. 

“You feel so _good_. You feel that, brother? You’ve ruined me without even being here. Hey. Look at me.” 

Loki allowed his eyes to flutter open. 

Thor seemed even more delighted at this than at the feeling of friction he so clearly craved. He rutted up against Loki, reaching a hand down to fist at both of their cocks, one hand still slung around Loki’s waist to keep him in place. “Oh, Loki—That’s right, right—_there_.” Thor’s hips bucked and Loki hissed out a breath of pleasure as his brother started stroking both of them at once. Loki squirmed and Thor held tighter, burying his face in Loki’s shoulder. The hand on Loki’s waist was trailing down now, cupping at his ass. “If you come—on this robe—you’re _dead_, do you hear me?” Loki groaned, taking a moment to sit up and remove it properly, tossing it delicately on a chair. Thor merely grunted, grabbing a handful of Loki’s ass now that there were no distractions, two fingers teasing along a cheek, suggesting _exactly_ where Thor would like them to be.  
  
“Kiss me. And open your mouth,” Thor mumbled, pressing kisses to the side of Loki’s neck as he felt him up. Loki turned and kissed Thor the way he knew Thor loved to be kissed, the way _his_ Thor wanted to be kissed—slow and long and soft, letting Thor press his firm tongue against his own, pleading and passive all at once. He sank back against onto Thor’s fingers, but it wouldn’t be enough, of course. Back then Thor had always been merely perfunctory at preparation, and only in recent years had he developed a taste of bringing Loki near tears with just his hands. Still, he groaned as he felt Thor work his way inside him, already so familiar. “You got ready for me,” Loki heard Thor groan. “So open for me, Loki. You’re all wet, too, fuck, that’s—”

Oh_. Fuck. _

Thor was drawing his hand back, and Loki knew what he was going to see, and it was too late to do a damn thing about it.

“Is that…what is that?” Loki heard Thor’s question as if from a distance. “Did you ready yourself with...with your _own…_”

“No, I just…” Loki spluttered. Stupid. Stupid! Romantic notions about wedding nights be damned; his cover was blown. And just now he could have smoothed this over, but now he’d denied an easy story about how he had touched himself and come on his hand to the idea of Thor. How was he supposed to tell this Thor that it was _Thor’s _come in his ass? 

He glanced down at the younger Thor, and his guilt must have been clear, because a bizarre cocktail of emotions seemed to be doing battle across Thor’s face as he looked up at Loki.

“You want me...to fuck you after someone else has already had you,” he said, dumbly, truly sounding unsure as to whether this was a horrible transgression or the most arousing idea in the world. 

And Thor hadn’t been asking a question, either, Loki released. No need to. Thor’s words sent a jolt of arousal through him so intense that had to look away for a moment, but yes. _Yes_. He’d never known he wanted it before, never had anyone he had wanted as much as Thor, but this was a special situation. Loki wet his lips and shrugged. 

“Will you do it?” 

Thor was still and quiet under him. There was a tense moment when neither said a word. Then Thor shook his head.

“No. Not unless you’re just doing it … just to pretend. Because if you’re not, I’m angry, and I’m not going to fuck you when I’m angry.”

“Oh, aren’t you?”

The words were not Loki’s. Young Thor and Loki both froze at the sound of a deep voice from the front end of the room; Loki was knocked from his perch on Young Thor’s chest as he made a frantic effort to cover them in a sheet. 

Thor—_Loki’s_ Thor—stood in the doorway. His shirt and most of his other clothes seemed to have gone missing, and he was grinning from ear to ear. 

The younger Thor stared for a long moment. The universe, of course, would not have even _thought_ about ending for something so commonplace as a little interpersonal anomaly, but it is not every day that one meets one’s future self. To the chagrin of those who jump through time with abandon, there _is_ a true, deep, fundamental feeling of recognition stirred up by such an encounter. Loki watched in silence, admiring the subtle differences between his own Thor and the younger counterpart. His Thor he knew intimately; ever scar on his chest and every impossibly firm muscle had been worked over with affection.

After a moment, the two Thors broke their gaze. Thor-the-younger turned to Loki, much of his drunken edge gone. He seemed to have accepted the anomaly before him with a calm, curious pragmatism, letting the cards fall where they would.

“So. He…and you…you planned this,” Thor-the-younger started, slowly. “And it was his—_my, _I should say—that you had—”

“Yes,” Loki said. “Don’t fuss about pronouns so much. He’s him, and you’re you. It’s really quite as simple as that. It’s…a special night for us, and he mentioned that maybe we would like to pay you a visit.”

Young Thor nodded, gazing off into the distance. “I see. Will I be allowed to remember this in the morning?” he asked. 

Loki smiled gently. “Only if you want to. I’m rather hoping you will.”

Younger Thor nodded, looking Loki up and down. “You kiss differently in the future.”

“Perhaps I do. Don’t you have questions?” Loki asked, glancing at his own Thor, who shrugged in a good-natured _well-what-was-I-supposed-to-do_ sort of way. 

“Not at all.” Young Thor grinned, his spirits clearly rising again. “Doesn’t it just make perfect sense that we would be together in the future? I always knew it. You must love me so much.” He hesitated for a moment, then squared his shoulders, and to Loki’s surprise, offered his older counterpart a hand to shake. “Thank you for visiting me.”

“HA!”

Thor-the-elder’s laughter boomed through the small chamber as Loki’s husband threw his golden head back in mirth. “Oh, little one, we’re not done unless you want us to be. Do you think I was watching the two of you in order to stand guard? No, I was watching for my pleasure, and for your education.”

As he spoke, Thor walking sat heavily on the bed next to his younger counterpart, kicking off his boots and undoing his trousers. Reclining against a pillow, he regarded Loki with deep affection, and slapped one muscular thigh in summons. “Come over here.”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so we’re going to let him think I’m just your little pet in the future? I hesitate to imagine how my current self would take to _that_.”

Thor grinned. “A few knife wounds build character, I’ve found. Now come over here and let’s show this boy how to fuck like a man.”

It was too good to resist. Loki felt the rushing sensation he always experienced when Thor took on this tone; damn him, but Thor knew him _too_ well. He smirked, then leaned in and kissed younger Thor full on the mouth, soft and filthy and with no more pretense that he was anything but experienced. When young Thor leaned back this time, he looked a bit like he _had_ just been stabbed in the chest, and blinked at Loki in silent shock, as if he could not believe his luck.

Loki smirked at him and moved to straddle older Thor, spreading his hands across his husband’s broad chest. Their eyes met, and Loki couldn’t suppress a smile as Thor positively _beamed_ back up at him.

  
And then the energy shifted, because Loki could feel Thor’s hands behind him, freeing his erection and stroking himself, and suddenly nothing else in the world mattered. Loki made a small noise of surprise as Thor’s other hand came up to grip his waist firmly, keeping him in place. Loki reached back to help stroke Thor, the familiar motion centering him, reminding him of why he’d come here in the first place. As if from a long distance away, he heard his Thor speaking, but not to him. “You’re lucky, boy. I’ve gotten him ready for us. And he loves it like this, though wouldn’t admit it for years.”

Thor’s cock was painfully hard in Loki’s hand already, and he slowed his motion, tilting his hips upward and pressing more of his body against Thor’s torso. Thor’s cock was so erect that Loki could lean back and grind his ass against the length, as much as Thor’s grip on his hips would allow, at least. He was hard, too, though not nearly as hard as Thor, and he wanted that cock _inside him_, damn it. He felt a rumbling beneath him as Thor chuckled. “Oh, do we want it so very badly, now?”

“Don’t make me beg,” Loki sighed, nuzzling against Thor’s collarbone and pressing up against his length again, the request posed absolutely without conviction.

“I wouldn’t. But…” Thor’s grip on Loki’s hips loosened and Loki opened his eyes. He had the distinct feeling he had just gotten himself into something. “But,” Thor continued, and his eyes were sparkling with mischief, “If your mouth won’t be used for begging, let’s put it to use, shall we?”

_Oh._

It happened in an instant. Thor sat up and flipped Loki onto his stomach, hitching his hips up with two hands and pulling Loki back onto his cock. The breach of it was glorious; Loki wailed at the familiar feeling of Thor pushing inside him. Of course Loki was ready; his body welcomed Thor as it had many times that night—this long, impossible night!—and he felt himself flush at the undignified position, hair falling into his face as he crumpled forward with a groan. “Oh, brother, _yes—” _

“You_—mm—_heard him,” Thor said from behind him, voice tight with pleasure as he rolled his hips. “You’re his brother, too.”

And then a warm hand was under Loki’s chin, tilting it up, and he was looking up into a pair of ice-blue eyes, Thor’s eyes, younger-Thor’s eyes, and they were burning with need. Young Thor brushed his thumb over Loki’s lower lip, and the tenderness of the caress combined with the punishing pace the other Thor was setting behind him made Loki groan anew, body rocking forward into Thor’s touch with the force of it. “May I have your mouth, my…my love?” 

“Please,” Loki gasped, the full effect of this little scenario they had orchestrated finally hitting him.

He and Thor had shared a partner before, but it was always them and someone else. Now it was just them, even if this Thor was younger; his touch was Thor’s touch, and the cock this younger version was now stroking to line up with Loki’s lips was most definitely Thor’s cock. It was almost too much, the way Loki could feel Thor moving greedily inside him from behind, and then the musk of Thor’s cock as Loki took it into his mouth and forced his head down, the shaky movement of younger-Thor’s thighs as he exhibited only the most adolescent restraint, thrusting weakly into Loki’s throat, one hand tangled in Loki’s hair. He could see nothing, feel nothing, smell nothing but Thor, Thor, his husband in this and every lifetime. Could he be sure of anything other than this? _Certainly not_, Loki thought, and said a quiet thanks for whatever absurd machinations of the universe had landed him between these two men. The rhythm they fell into was perfection. The night was growing so late that Loki was sure they were the only ones awake in the inn, but that might not be the case for long: the bed creaked with the strength of older Thor’s thrusts, and Loki could barely support himself on one hand as he greedily sucked and stroked at younger Thor’s cock. He was glad to busy his mouth, because each time he forced his head down he stifled a moan of pleasure.

They held this rhythm for a while, but soon Loki felt the younger Thor’s movements become more erratic; a hand tightened in his hair and held him down for a moment.

“Please, let me have him,” the younger Thor whined, and the older Thor laughed through his pleasure.

“I think we both have him,” he grunted, rolling his hips for emphasis and making Loki squeak. Loki felt that if he didn’t come soon he would be miserable; he was well over the edge of pleasure and was white-hot with need. And if he knew his Thor, his husband would be much the same way by now. 

“You have me, my love,” Loki gasped to _his_ Thor, drawing himself back from younger Thor’s cock. He looked the younger man up and down for a moment, then grinned wickedly. “He can have me after you’re done with me. It’s high time you learned what it’s like to be second in line for something.”

“Mmm.” Thor did not need telling twice. He pulled out enough for Loki to maneuver them down onto the bed, so that Loki was lying on this back, blanketed by his brother’s body. Loki sighed his pleasure at finally being able to recline, and tilted his head back to the younger Thor, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as Thor started moving inside him again, focused this time almost entirely on Loki’s own pleasure.

“You—wanted to know. If I loved you that much?” Loki gasped to the younger Thor, mouth making a silent “o” a moment later as the older Thor started stroking his cock as he fucked into him, leaned over him, kissing and nuzzling at the side of Loki’s face. “Well, take a look. I love him this much.”

He turned and wrapped his arms around his husband, smiling to himself, his breath steadying. Thor shifted so their faces were pressed together, and Loki kissed him long and deep. Thor’s touch quickened, set to send them both over the edge, and Loki thrilled in pleasure as he heard Thor grunt and then moan, brokenly; Thor always sounded so _dramatic_ when he came. But then it was Loki’s turn to moan, as the warm grip Thor had had on his cock was removed, leaving him cold.

“_Please_,” he whined, gritting his teeth as Thor slid out of him. It was filthy, honestly; how many times had he let Thor come in him tonight? Three times? Four? There was nothing keeping Loki from cleaning the two of them up between sessions, of course, but he had always been one for sentiment, and it _was _their wedding night. He regretted it now as he cursed, sitting up and glaring at his Thor, who was smiling at him, clearly sated.

“Go on,” the older Thor said, and Loki’s heart flipped as he realized what was about to happen. He spread his legs a little further as the younger Thor climbed atop him with reverence.

“_Can_ I?” the younger Thor breathed, gazing down at Loki, who nodded, not taking the time to make a smart comment about how badly he needed it. The younger Thor lined himself up and pushed in, and Loki’s whimper at the feeling was louder than he had intended it to be. It felt so good, the way the younger Thor fucked into him in relief, the slick from all of Thor’s other times making his movement easy. Loki whimpered again, and the older Thor clicked his tongue, settling beside Loki and kissing him on the cheek. It was bliss, then; Loki, drowning in the sensation of his own Thor stroking him off again as the younger Thor fucked him, pressed up against the older Thor’s bare, warm flesh. “I’m sorry I ever used to be so inattentive, dear husband,” Loki heard the older Thor say, and then the younger Thor groaned, hips bucking, reaching up and tangling a fist in Loki’s hair, and coming with such force that Loki felt he might burst. And then there was Thor’s hand again, stroking him slow and firm and steady, and it was all too much, and Loki came with his face pressed against his husband’s chest.

When his vision had cleared and the moment had passed, Loki looked up hazily, down at the younger Thor, and gave him an encouraging smile. “Thank you,” he said, simply, and frowned to see how serious and wide-eyed this Thor looked. “…Are you quite all right? Surely by now you’ve done that plenty of times.”

Younger Thor shook his head, not able to look away from Thor and Loki as they laid curled up together on the pillows in front of him. “It’s just. I heard you two call each other…I mean. Does this mean we get _married_?”

His voice was utterly awed, as if he was contemplating something too spectacular for words. Loki smiled at him and settled against the older Thor, who was clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yes, we do,” Loki replied, closing his eyes and praying that this wasn't the type of inn where people came in early to change the sheets. “And let me tell you—it was one _hell_ of a wedding night.”


End file.
